


Tri'voy's Stories

by umbralillium



Series: My SWTOR fic [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:26:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3503294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umbralillium/pseuds/umbralillium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stories set in Star Wars: The Old Republic, involving my male Republic Trooper, Tri'voy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

> Each story can stand on its own, but there's an over-arching storyline.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tri'voy has a few choice words for General Garza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set directly after Operation Talon.

**Confrontation**

"Dismissed," General Garza ordered.

Aric and Tri'voy returned her salute and Aric turned to leave. Tri'voy stayed facing her.

"Was there something else, Major?" Garza inquired.

"Sir?" Aric asked.

"Go on ahead," Tri'voy instructed. "I'll catch up."

He heard a breath being drawn behind him then Aric said, "Yes, sir."

He waited until he heard the door to Garza's office swish shut behind Aric before speaking. "Why did you not tell me my father was on that ship?"

"You know why, Major," Garza answered, staring him down.

"I would have given my full attention to the _entire_ mission, sir, not just him," Tri'voy protested.

"Would you really, Major?" she countered. "You can't know how you would react until you find yourself in that situation with someone you care about in danger. I couldn't take that chance. There were too many lives at stake. For another thing, there was no time to tell you without revealing who you are to your team."

He sighed and looked away. "Yes, sir. Thank you for your time, sir."

"Dismissed, Major. I suggest you check your personal holocomm before meeting up with your team."

He saluted, turned a sharp about-face, and strode from her office. Once out in the hallway, he commed Aric.

"Sir? Is everything all right?" he asked upon answering.

"It's fine. I'm on my way back to the ship," he assured him. "Prep the ship to leave for Belsavis, I want to take off as soon as I'm on board."

"Yes, sir," Aric agreed before disconnecting

He made his way out of the Senate Tower to his speeder and headed off to the spaceport.

"Sir," Elara greeted him as soon as he was on board.

"Nice to see you back on your feet, Captain," he told her, smiling.

"Indeed, sir, when you have a moment, I'd like to speak to you," she requested.

"Of course. I need to take care of something and then I'll meet you in the Med Bay," he agreed.

"Very good, sir," she replied. "I'll let Jorgan know you're on board so we can take off."

"Thank you," he said with a smile before heading for his private quarters and the private holocomm tucked away in a locked drawer of his desk. Once the holocomm was on top of his desk, he keyed in a frequency and waited for the reply.

Prime Minister Milarzen and President Walinor looked much happier than Tri'voy had last seen them when they answered the call.

"Tri'voy," they greeted.

"Hello, Fathers," Tri'voy replied, smiling.

**End**


	2. Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tri'voy receives some wounds and opens old wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after Operation Talon. In Tri'voy's storyline, he and Elara marry in the conversations that unlock after Talon. So, in this fic, assume they're married. xD

Tri’voy growled and kicked the Devaronian in the chest, knocking him away. There’s an echoing growl and he turns in time to be punched in the eye by a Trandoshan.  Sharp pain ran through his face as the metal patch sliced the delicate skin open and he drew in a sharp breath.  He charged at the Trandoshan, grappling it to the ground and punched it in the face in return.  Finally, a trio of constables raced into the room, blasters aimed at the brawlers.

“What’s going on here?” one of the constables asked sharply. “Who started it?”

Tri’voy stood, arms raised peacefully. “That Devaronian insulted Captain Dorne,” he explained, gesturing from the Devaronian he’d kicked to Elara on the other side of the cantina, who was standing over a pair of whimpering Abyssins. They were the only ones still standing and not making noises of pain. “I asked him to apologize and he attacked.”

“All right, boys, lock ‘em up. I’ll need your name for my report,” the head constable replied.

“Major Tri’voy of Havoc Squad,” Tri’voy replied.

“Captain Elara Dorne of Havoc Squad,” Elara added.

“Sir!” the constable saluted. “Sorry for the hassle, sir. You’re both free to go.”

There was a round of weak protestations from those being rounded up by the constables but the head constable ignored them.

“Not a problem, Constable, sorry for the mess.” Tri’voy reached in his pocket, drew out several credits, and set them on the bar while Elara walked across the cantina to join him.

The bartender made agreeable noises and Tri’voy followed Elara’s stiff back out into the bright lights of Nar Shaddaa's Promenade.

The pair were silent as they climbed onto their speeders and headed for the spaceport.

He started to speak once they were in the elevator to the hanger but Elara just snapped out a sharp, “Don’t.” and he fell quiet again.

Aric stared in surprise at Tri’voy’s bloody face and Elara’s ruffled hair. “Something happen, sir?” he asked.

“No,” Elara replied shortly, ignoring Aric’s dubious look. Tri’voy turned to head towards his quarters, but she reached up and grabbed the collar of his shirt. “I don’t think so,” she snapped and dragged him towards the medbay.

“Sit,” she instructed, pointing at one of the beds.

“This really isn’t nece—” he began to protest even as he sat down.

“I’ll decide what’s necessary,” she cut in, stalking over to the supply cabinet and grabbing various items. “Last I recall, I was the medic of this squad, am I not?”

“Yes, but—.”

“And do you or do you not trust me to see to every member’s well-being?” she continued, setting a tray down on the bed next to his hip.

“Of course.”

“Then why do you not expect me to treat the wound that I inadvertently caused?” she questioned, bracing her fists on her hips and staring up at him.

He turned his head so that the unscarred, cybernetics-free side was facing her and remained silent.

She stared at him for a long moment then slumped, hands falling from her hips to rest on his knees. “I’ve treated a lot of wounds in my time, Tri’voy,” she told him quietly as she reached up and turned his face back towards her. “Nothing you’re hiding under that patch could possibly surprise me.”

Sighing, Tri’voy nodded and started to each up to remove it.

Elara caught his hand. “Your hands aren’t the cleanest, at the moment,” she explained with a faint smile. “Who knows where those thugs have been. Let me?”

He watched her for a moment before nodding again. She tugged on a pair of gloves, grabbed an antiseptic wipe, and cleaned the skin around the patch gently, making sympathetic faces whenever he winced at the sting.

“I’m going to take it off now,” she warned him before disengaging the interior locks on the patch, gently lifting it away, and placing it carefully in a sterile bowl on her tray. Finally, she looked at the wreckage that had been hidden under the patch and drew in a soft breath.

“I don’t mind if you’re shocked,” Tri’voy said quietly, staring over her shoulder as she reached up and started cleaning the blood that had managed to seep under the patch. “I know how it looks.”

“I’m not shocked,” she replied in an equally soft tone. “Or at least, not in the way you might think. I’m shocked that anyone could do this to you.” She traced the scars gently with the cloth. “I can tell these are scratches from nails. You had a cybernetic eye here, yes?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, closing his eye. “My brother did it.”

Elara’s body and breath stilled. He could feel her staring at him. “You don’t have to tell me,” she finally said after a few moments of silence.

“I want to,” he replied and, surprisingly, he really did want to tell her.

“Our parents are highly placed in the government. You may meet them some day,” he huffed a humorless laugh. “You may have met them already, I don’t know. I can’t tell you their names. It’s for their protection, and mine, that I let everyone think my surname is Tri’voy. Anyway, I love my parents, but they’ve made decisions regarding Oni’qui and I that many people didn’t agree with, that Oni’qui and I didn’t even agree to.

“When we were old enough to survive the operations, they had the cybernetics installed,” he continued, ignoring Elara’s hissed oath. “Cybernetic eyes were the most visible, but there were also others that were taken out when we were too old for them to be effective.”

“Growth hormone pumps,” Elara guessed as she picked up the dermal adhesive.

“Among other things,” he confirmed. “It’s why we’re both so large, especially compared to our parents. They wanted big strong boys to eventually take their places. Never mind what Qui and I wanted.”

He drew in a deep breath. “I had an uncle that was in the Republic Special Forces. I don’t even know what squad he worked with, it was classified, but he’d come and visit and have these amazing stories of the battles he’d been in and talked about fighting for the Republic and I wanted that. I wanted the glory and medals he’d show us. I wanted to fight for the Republic; I wanted to defend the people that my parents represent.”

“A noble aspiration,” she observed quietly.

He snorted. “To some, maybe. Qui had other ideas. He’d been learning, in secret, to tap into his Force abilities. I don’t know who discovered that he _could_ use the Force, who had been training him. He’d been jealous of me for as long as I can remember. I was the eldest so our parents doted on me. Everything they did to and for me was given to Qui as an afterthought. ‘Oh, we did it for Tri’voy, we better do it for Oni’qui as well.’

“We were twelve when our parents started talking about arranged marriages. They wanted to marry me to a girl Qui had a crush on. When he protested, our parents laughed at him. I honestly don’t remember much about that day, just purple lightning, being held by invisible hands, Qui’s fingers tearing at my face and ripping out my cybernetic eye. There was too much damage for the doctors to put in a new one.”

Tri’voy jumped when Elara gently nudged his knees open and stepped in to hug him. He sat up stiffly for a moment, uncertain whether to return the embrace, before sighing and wrapping his arms around her. “Thank you.”

“What happened to Oni’qui?” she inquired quietly. “Aside from becoming a Sith, I mean.”

“He ran away before my parents could stop him. He didn’t even take anything with him, besides the clothes he was wearing when he attacked me.” He drew in a short breath, remembering his first sight of Oni’qui after 6 years on Tatooine.

“Is that why you fight him? Because of what he did to you?” she asked.

“No, I fight him because he’d kill me if I didn’t,” he answered. “There’s so much rage and hate in him, I don’t think he really remembers that I’m his brother, anymore. He doesn’t remember the times when we were happy. Or he doesn’t want to. The times I miss him most are when I’m fighting him.”

“I hope you get the chance to reconcile with him,” she murmured.

He smiled sadly and dropped a soft kiss on her head. “I do, too, but I don’t hold out much hope.”

“I’ll hope enough for the both of us, then,” she replied, pulling back to smile up at him.

Tri’voy laughed softly and pressed his forehead against hers. “You do that.” Silence fell between them for long moments. Elara’s thumb rubbed soothingly at the base of Tri’voy’s spine while his fingers combed through her hair. “You were angry at me,” he finally said.

“Yes.”

“Now you’re not,” he observed.

“Yes,” she repeated.

“Why?”

She sighed and pulled away to start cleaning the blood off his patch. “I didn’t need you to defend me; I can manage quite well on my own.”

“I know,” he replied, watching her.

“Then why did you let me?” she asked as she handed back the patch.

“Habit,” he replied with a slight shrug before putting the patch back on. “Most of the people I meet are smaller than me, especially the women. I’m not used to being around women who can fight just as well as I can. I’m sorry.”

Elara sighed and kissed him gently. “Thank you for apologising,” she said quietly. “And thank you for telling me.”

Tri’voy nodded, silent, not meeting her eyes.

She watched him for a few moments. “I hope you don’t mind if my hand slips on my blaster the next time you fight him.”

A startled laugh escaped him and he looked up at her to find her smiling fondly at him.

“Let’s keep this between us, hmm?” she suggested, a trace of mischief in her eyes. “You’ve managed to keep the squad out of it, until now, but if Aric, M1, and Yuun knew, they’d want to join in.”

“They’re good soldiers,” he observed with a faint smile.

“Friends,” she corrected gently. “Vik can go hang, for all I care. The rest of us, though; we’d die for you, you know that?”

“That’s not necessary,” he answered gravely.

“It’s not about what’s necessary,” she answered, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You’re our commander, you’re one of the most honorable men I know, you don’t treat us like we’re just soldiers. We’re your equals and you respect us. For that, we respect you and we’d do anything you asked.”

Tri’voy pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.”

“Sir,” she replied softly with a nod and a smile.

**End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Art inspired by this fic](http://houseahngairn.tumblr.com/post/113233391900/trivoy-drawn-by-jinxess-inspired-by-wounds) by [Jinxii](http://jinxess.tumblr.com)


	3. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tri'voy meets up with his brother again for the first time in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during the Trooper storyline on Tatooine. Cross-posted to [Oni'qui's Stories](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3655911).

Tri’voy stopped his speeder halfway to the Czerka base in the Dune Sea, frowning. There was something out there… He looked around, but all he could see was miles and miles of sand.

“Sir?” Dorne inquired, several meters ahead of him. “Is everything all right, sir?”

“I don’t—.” He was cut off by a roar and the sound of a lightsaber. He leapt from his speeder, his quick reflexes saving him from the Sith’s harsh landing and the lightning crackling in the sand.

“Miss me, brother?” Oni’qui growled, his eye glowing an eerie yellow.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I said yes, _brother_ ,” Tri’voy replied as he pulled his assault cannon from his back.

Oni’qui let out a powerful, animalistic roar, Tri’voy’s knees trembled but he held firm, letting loose a stream of bolts at his brother. Oni’qui leapt at him, lightsabers slashing, and Tri’voy knocked him back with a concussive round.

Green light touched them, the healing balm of kolto rushing through them and they both yelled, “No! This is just between us.” Tri’voy barely heard Dorne’s annoyed sigh, preoccupied with fending off Oni’qui’s attacks.

*

Elara growled to herself. “Stubborn arseholes.”

“Elara,” her cousin’s familiar voice greeted her.

“Malavai,” she responded warily, not taking her eyes off her commanding officer fighting the Sith. His _brother_ , apparently. “I see you finally made it off Balmorra.”

“With Lord Oni’qui’s help, yes,” he replied. “You’ll be getting a new commanding officer, soon.”

“Like hell,” she retorted, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “Captain Tri’voy’s one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

“The same could be said for my Lord.” They winced as Tri’voy was lifted in the air, clutching at invisible hands at his throat. “Are you sure?” A sticky bomb threw Oni’qui backwards, interrupting his concentration enough for Tri’voy to drop to the sand and shoot off several explosive rounds.

“Yes,” Elara finally answered. “They’ll both be a mess by the time this is over, but neither of them will be dying today.”

Malavai scoffed, but fell silent, watching Tri’voy and Oni’qui fight.

She didn’t let on about her own doubts. Watching the pair, she could see how angry Oni’qui was and how he channeled that anger into his abilities. As a former Imperial officer, she’d seen Sith fight on several occasions and Oni’qui had more power than any other Sith she’d seen. On the other hand, Captain Tri’voy was one of the youngest commanding officers in the Republic Special Forces. Even Sergeant Jorgan was impressed by him.

“Why did you defect, Elara?” Malavai asked, finally.

“I couldn’t stand the atrocities the Empire committed, usually at the bidding of a Sith,” she answered quietly. “We were supposed to stand for honor and discipline, but anytime a Sith gave orders otherwise, they were obeyed without question. It was horrific.”

“It isn’t always like that. Perhaps you had superiors who were a little…too willing?” Malavai countered.

“What’s the point in arguing it, Malavai?” she asked tiredly. “You’ll never see my side and I’ll never come back, even if the Empire promised not to prosecute me for defecting.”

“Not even to see your parents? Your siblings?” he wondered.

“I miss them every day,” she replied, fighting back tears. “But I do not regret my decision.”

“They are well, if you’re wondering. Aleksei—.”

“No,” she interrupted. “Don’t tell me. If you tell me, I’ll have to report it.”

He nodded shortly and they went back to watching Tri’voy and Oni’qui fight. Both men were visibly weakened, by now: bloody and winded; staggering on occasion.

“Right,” Elara said firmly and started up her carbonite stream. A low chuckle sounded next to her and Malavai did the same. “That’s quite enough of that,” she muttered and aimed her stream at Tri’voy. “Better to apologize later than deal with the paperwork from a dead CO. Stupidity isn’t a very heroic cause of death.”

Malavai laughed and froze Oni’qui. “I imagine we’ll be seeing each other again, cousin.”

“Sadly, it seems so. Good bye, Malavai.”

“Good bye, Elara. I’ll give your family your best, shall I?”

“Best not,” she denied softly. “It’s better if they forget about me.”

“You know that will never happen,” he answered.

“One can hope.”

*

Malavai kept Lord Oni’qui in a medically-induced coma while he treated his Master’s wounds. He winced as he went over the diagnostics. Without Elara’s timely intervention, the two brothers would have killed each other, whether by their fighting or loss of blood, it was difficult to say. Either way, it was better for everyone that they had intervened in the fight, no matter the consequences.

"So, our favorite Sith has a brother," Vette observed from where she leaned in the MedBay doorway.

"Indeed," Malavai answered absently, focusing on slowly dialing back the medicine keeping Lord Oni'qui under.

"What's he like?" Vette asked right by his shoulder and he twitched, jolting the control in his fingers.

"Vette!" he snapped, glaring at her over his shoulder. "If you can't be quiet and let me work, you need to leave."

He barely had a moment to register her eyes widening in surprise before a strong hand caught him around the throat and dragged him a scant inch away from his Master's furious face.

"If you _ever_ interfere like that again, you'll not live to do it a third time," Lord Oni'qui growled.

"Would you rather... I let you get... yourself... killed?" Malavai gasped.

"Vette, out," Lord Oni'qui commanded, not looking away from Malavai.

"But, I--" she started to protest until Lord Oni'qui leveled an utterly flat look her way. "Yes, my lord."

Lord Oni'qui didn't turn his burning gaze back on Malavai until the MedBay door swished shut behind her. He finally released his hold on Malavai's throat with a short growl of displeasure. Malavai folded to his knees, hands braced on the floor, coughing and gasping for breath. "When it comes to my brother, you do not interfere, do you understand?"

"When it comes to keeping you alive, I have no other choice, my lord," Malavai replied, keeping his eyes on the decking.

With a growl, Lord Oni'qui paced the small space of the MedBay. "I cannot allow such insubordination."

"If I am to be punished for seeing to your well-being, so be it," Malavai answered as he sat back on his heels, valiantly ignoring the arousal rising in his veins at the thought of being under Lord Oni'qui's hand.

Lord Oni'qui turned sharply, eye narrowed as he stared at Malavai. "It's not a punishment if you enjoy it, Quinn," he commented shrewdly.

Malavai was suddenly incredibly glad that his dusky skintone hid his flush. "My lord," he murmured, bowing his head briefly in agreement.

"On the other hand." Lord Oni'qui stepped closer until his bare feet were scant inches away from Malavai's knees. "You do look pretty on your knees."

Breath quickening, Malavai closed his eyes and tilted his head back and to the side, baring his neck for his Master.

" _Very_ pretty," Lord Oni'qui amended, fisting a hand in Malavai's hair. "I'm going to have fun with you."

"As you wish, Master."

*

Elara muttered quietly to herself as she checked the diagnostics readout on Tri'voy. "Wounds, nearly healed; blood pressure, normal; heart rate, normal for him; temperature, a little low. Good."

She tapped in the command to ease off the flow of medicine keeping him unconscious and turned to the bandages covering his wounds. They were stained, but the skin underneath was pale pink. There would hardly be any scars. Aside from the ones that were there to begin with, that is. She glanced up at his face and the scars there.

Curiosity burned through her, with medicine as advanced as it was, what had happened that had left him so scarred? She was just reaching up to trace her fingers over the scars when his eye snapped open and his hand seized her wrist. Training and instinct took over. She dropped the datapad in her free hand, grabbed his wrist with her thumb on the lung pressure point, rubbing harshly, and her fingers on the heart pressure point, pressing in. He gasped, his fingers releasing and she used her grip to twist his arm up and away until the edge of the bed was pressed in his shoulder. He grunted in pain, twisting, and grunting again as his wounds pulled. She released him, backing away until she bumped into the other bed. "Sorry, sir," she said quickly.

Tri'voy just blinked at her with a faint smile for a moment before shaking his head slightly. "At ease, sergeant," he rasped before coughing to clear this throat. "I think we both surprised each other."

"Yes, sir," she agreed, bending to pick up her datapad.

"What's the prognosis?" he asked.

"You're doing well," she answered, not looking up from the datapad as she added in a mutter, "For a man who nearly fought a Sith to death."

He sighed. "If I hadn't fought him, he _would_ have killed me." His left hand twitched and Elara quickly scanned the diagnostic for signs of nerve damage. Finding none, she shook it off.

"Have you ever thought about running away?" she wondered.

"Wouldn't work," he replied, shaking his head. "He's always been able to track me, ever since we were kids. Drove me _nuts_ when we would play hide-and-seek together. I could never hide from him."

"I imagine you weren't so bad at finding him, either," she commented, returning to her work of checking his wounds, tutting quietly when she found a couple on his side that had reopened when he twisted earlier.

A soft laugh escaped him. "I was okay at it," he answered. "Can we get back to work tracking down Czerka's base?"

"Not just yet," she answered, fixing him with a firm look. "I've just gotten you pieced back together. I want you to rest until morning. _No_ arguments. Sir."

That queer little smile twitched his lips again as he watched her. "All right. Doctor's orders."

"Not a doctor," she reminded him as she turned to send the used bandages down the shaft to the incinerator.

"Medic's orders, then."

She huffed a soft laugh and shook her head. She glanced over her shoulder to see him smiling widely at her. "Sleep, Lieutenant. Then we'll talk about getting back to work."

"Yes, ma'am."

*

Aric poked his head into the MedBay, ready to ask how the lieutenant was doing, until he caught sight of the flush lingering on Elara's neck. He sniffed discretely, scowling at the miasma of pheromones lingering in the air, and glanced at the bed where Tri'voy lay. A _stupidly_ besotted look was on his face as he watched Dorne work and Aric turned right around, nearly running into Forex. "They're fine," he growled and marched right back to the armory, ignoring Forex's inquiries.

End


End file.
